Proving Yourself
by Kylaia
Summary: Hermione becomes slightly depressed and just wants to prove she is worth something. And then a letter comes which opens a whole series of events that could change her for the better or for the worse. Updated Voldemort has a plan for Snape, but how does th
1. Chapter the First

I have joined the ranks of Dark!Hermione writers *grins*. Yay!   
  
Disclaimer - None of the following characters are mine (do you honestly think that if they were I'd still be living with my parenst?) and I'm not making any money from this.  
Proving yourself.  
Yawning from both exhaustion and boredom Hermione Granger languidly stirred the tomato soup that had been clotting for the past half an hour. Although several attempts had been made to draw Hermione into the conversation Hermione carried on stirring the soup that was still 'cooling down'.  
  
Listening to the casual banter of the other seventh years Hermione sighed. Ever since the end of her sixth year she had been edging away from her friends. Her friends who gave her those strange looks if she did anything out of the ordinary. It seemed that as Hermione drifted away from the other's the more she disliked them. There was Harry who liked to pretend he hated being The-Boy-Who-Lived but in reality enjoyed the attention. There was Ron who was so obssessed about his lack of money that it really was no wonder that Malfoy taunted him about it when the flame-headed boy brought it up at every opurtunity. And then there was everyone else. The Gryffindor sheep. Hermione had often wondered if she would be expelled if she charmed the Gryffindor flags to show a sheep rather than a lion.  
  
No one ever did anything for themselves. No original thought ever came from the dull troop of Harry Potter worshippers. No body even dared to do anthing that wasn't yet predetermined. If the great Harry Potter didn't do it, then no one else would. It was rather like a domino effect when Harry decided to do something new. Hermione was rudely interrupted from her musings.  
  
"Herm, y'know that Charms essay? Well could you um... help me with it?" Translated from Ron-talk to the language that Hermione used, that meant that Ron either wanted to feel Hermione up in the library or he wanted Hermione to do his homework while he felt up another girl in the library.  
  
"Do I have a sticker on my forhead labelling me as Ron Weasley's private whore? Or the brain that you are most blatantly lacking? Well?" Colour rushed to Ron's freckled cheeks. Hermione carried on with her unyielding tirade of truth that struck too close to home for comfort, for several minutes. When she realised she had the full attention of both professors and students alike Hermione shook her head and stood up.   
  
Leaving a crushed Ron and many shocked pupils and one extremely startled professor Hermione left the Great Hall and hurried to the Gryffindor Tower. Two paintings before the portrait of the Fat Lady Hermione stopped and turned to face the intricately designed tapestry. It depicted the four founders. Godric smiled his unwavering smile, Helga beamed and dimples popped up everywhere, Rowena laughed gaily her tiny eyes twinking, Salazar regarded Hermione with an aloof glance.  
  
Speaking the password quietly Hermione entered her rooms. Due to her being elected Head Girl she had her own set of rooms thankfully. No longer did she have to listne to the prattling and giggling of immature little girls. Hermione passed through the main room, which served as both living space and a study, into her bedroom. Stopping in midstride Hermione turned on her heel and retraced her steps back to the laden book shelves.   
  
Tapping the spined lightly as she skimmed over the titles Hermione spotted the book she wanted and returned to her bedroom. The brunette sat on the edge of the king sized bed and reached down between her legs to the gap between the bed and the richly carpeted floor. Drawing out her satchel Hermione sat it down next to her and brought out a brightly coloured notebook with the word 'Charms' scrawled vividly across it. Taking a quill, a pot of ink and several rolls of parchment from a side pocket Hermione returned the bag and turned so that her back was against the headboard and shuffled along until she was in the middle.   
  
Balancing the pot of ink precariously on a frilly pillow and rested the parchment on her notebook. For twenty minutes or so Hermione scribbled down the first draft only stopping to refer to her notebook. Hermione was so engrossed in her work that she didn't spot the velvety grey owl until it began to hoot with impatience. Hermione twitced and almost upset the little pot of ink.   
  
Jumping to her feet and carefully setting the papers onto her bed Hermione strode over to the windowsill where the owl was perched and releived the owl of it's burden. Before sitting back on the bed Hermione dug out a few owl treats from the top drawer of her bedside table and gave them to the owl along with a little pat. Though she did not notice it sisn't move at all.  
  
The envelope was made of a rich grainy paper. The hue of it shifted in the light. Flickering from one colour to another hermione was almost loath to open it. The paper the letter was written on was a let down after such a beutiful envelope.   
  
Jotted down on slimsy white paper were the words,  
Miss H. Granger,  
It would be most benficial, to both you and I, if you attended an engagment attended by my assosciates and myself. I expect to see you at Malfoy Manor on the twelfth of this month at precisely 7:00 p.m. It would be most displeasing if you failed to show up. I look forward to seeing you at the aforesaid time and location.  
  
Lord Voldemort.  
Hermione stared in shock at the letter. She, Hermione Granger, had been invited to a Death Eater meeting. Her mind drifted back to her train of thoughts she had been thinking along at the dinner table. Should she go? Just to do something out of the ordinary. Should she do this as a kick in the teeth to her peers?   
  
No, if she did go, it wouldn't just to be different. It would be because she wanted to prove herself. Memories of being called 'Harry Potter's friends' flooded Hermione's head. Time and again had she yearned to be known for herself. No for her knowledge or for the people she was friends with, but to be known as Hermione Granger. Not Granger the know-it-all, just Hermione.   
  
Maybe if she did go she could show that she was worth something too. How many times had she been called a Mud-Blood? And how many times had she wanted to show everyone that she was better than them. Even before Hermione had known she was a witch people would assume she was a nobody.   
  
Maybe, just maybe, this was her chance to prove herself. To show all those doubters that she was better than them. Moving quickly, so that she didn't have the time to change her mind, Hermione scooped up a scrap of parchment and a quill. Placing them on the table Hermione scribbled a hasty reply.  
  
Mr T. Riddle,  
It is a pleasure to be invited. I shall see you at the set time and location.  
  
Miss H. Granger.  
Perfect. Short and straight to the point. And Hermione refused to 'Lord' anyone she didn't yet know. Looking around the room for the bird, hoping it hadn't already left, Hermione spotted it and fastened the letter to it's leg. She jerked her head towards the window and watched as the grey speck of moving feathers melted into the dusky light.   
  
As though she had done something much bigger than write a reply to a letter Hermione collapsed onto her bed and shoved off the remaining parchment, notebook and book. Heavy lids dragged down and quickly Hermione was sleeping deeply  
*******  
There ya go! What do you think? What? Sorry, I can't hear you! Speak louder! Nope, I just can't hear you *sigh*. You'l just have to press the purple button and leave a review!!!!!  
  
Review and I'll write more!  
  
TTFN  
  
Ky, 


	2. Chapter the Second

Ack, do you people not know the meaning of 'review'? Grr. Review this chapter then, and I may think about writing the next chapter *grin*.  
  
Disclaimer - None of the following characters are mine and I'm not making any money from this etc.  
  
Proving Yourself  
  
The last dregs of sleep were shaken from Hermione as she sat up and got out of bed. She shivered with cold. Wrapping a deep red fluffy terry robe around her Hermione opened the door to the bathroom and switched on a few of the taps. While the bath was filling up she brushed her teeth and tried to bring some order to her hair.   
  
Having not cut her hair since before her First Year the brown tresses were of considerable length. The light from the candles picked out twisting and curling strands of a deep mahogany. Shorter wisps of hair framed her heart shaped face. Well-defined cheekbones lay beneath large almond shaped eyes of a deep, chocolate brown with flecks of black liberally sprinkled all over. Extravagant eyelashes cast shadows on the pale creamy skin.   
  
Once the bath was full Hermione had a hurried bath. Jumping out of the tub the size of a pool, Hermione swathed herself in the robe and kicked open the door to the main room. She hastily put the correct books and notebooks for the day's lessons onto her desk and went back into her room to get her satchel. Returning to the pile of books Hermione tossed them into the bag and popped in a few extra quills. After making sure all of the notebooks and books were in her bag, Hermione performed a quick drying charm on both her hair and her still damp body.   
  
The robe no longer sticking to her flesh, Hermione hurriedly got dressed and pinned half of her hair up into a tight bun and let the remaining locks to fall down her back. Picking up her bag as she passed Hermione stepped through the opening and into the hallway. As everyone had already gone downstairs to eat breakfast, the hallways were empty as Hermione walked down to the Great Hall.   
  
Deliberately Hermione sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, when she reached the hall. She ate a hurried breakfast of sausage, bacon, mushrooms and some fried bread and then left to go down to the dungeons to wait for her first lesson: Potions.  
  
***  
  
A slight sigh escaped from the thin lips of Professor Snape. No matter how many times Snape protested, Dumbledore always put the Gryffindors and the Slytherins together for potions. Hoping for a quiet lesson where he could rest his weary eyes and possibly catch some sleep in his office, Snape had assigned the class to make a Silence potion. A potion that did in fact need silence to be brewed correctly. Talking upset it immensely and would cause it to explode, so, thankfully, no one could talk. The class seemed, however, to make up for the lack of talk and whispers in an incredible amount of noise made by stirring cauldrons or moving stools.  
  
Rubbing the smooth skin at the side of his eyes Snape looked around his classroom. Varying degrees of despair showed on the seventh years. Longbottom looked as though he was ready to explode from frustration. Everyone else's potion was grey; his was an intense red. Well everyone's except Granger's. Her potion was the steely grey of a finished Silence Potion.  
  
Granger. Now there was one who had perplexed and confounded him since her First Year. She had all of the brains for a Ravenclaw. She had all of the ambition and cunning to be an exemplary Slytherin. And yet the Sorting Hat had insisted on putting her in Gryffindor. In the house where she was most likely to become an outcast from her 'friends'.   
  
She was rather like him in that respect. During his early years at Hogwarts he had been anything but a Slytherin, but he eventually realised that he would have to act like one to be accepted. However Granger had not yet started the pretence of the Gryffindor she was meant to be. She carried on showing those, ever increasingly obvious, traits of the other houses. Slowly the Gryffindors would reject her for being too Slytherin, or too Ravenclaw. And then the other houses would not accept her for actually being in Gryffindor.   
  
A shame really. That exact same process had caused Snape to become a Death Eater. He just hoped that Granger wouldn't turn to that particular 'solace' also. Such a mind as hers could very easily sway the war in favour of Voldemort. And after being found out as a spy a year earlier, that would not be the healthiest of events for Snape  
  
***  
  
Strumming her fingers lightly on the grained wood, Hermione fixed her gaze at a candle someway above the Hufflepuff table. The entire table was talking about her. Talking about how she had changed, about how sorry they were for Ron and Harry. Despite the topic of their conversation sitting just meters away from them, they carried on unabashed. While thinking of all the nasty hexes and curses she knew Hermione ground her teeth, hoping that she wouldn't end up killing Lavender who was prattling on about how Hermione never even moisturised, and had no beauty routine apart from washing, showers and brushing her teeth.   
  
Slowly, so that all eyes were trained on her, Hermione got to her feet and turned to the clump of Gryffindors.   
  
"I feel nothing but sympathy if the most gripping of conversations you can conduct is on the lack of my beauty routine," Lavender didn't even have the decency to blush, "Perhaps you would like some more juicy gossip. Like how I once actually went for three days without a shower. You people are so sad." Not once did Hermione raise her voice higher than a whisper, but all the Gryffindors heard her.   
  
Hermione glared at one Ravenclaw who was staring wide-mouthed at her and strode back to her rooms, glad that there were no more lessons for the day or week.  
  
***  
  
All too slowly for Hermione, the twelfth approached and with it a large amount of anticipation on Hermione's side. The actually day was remarkably boring. McGonnagal gave Seamus a detention for turning her into a pencil sharpener. Flitwick fell of his books. Again. And Snape... well Snape was Snape.  
  
It was just an hour till seven o'clock and Hermione had no idea how she was to get to Malfoy Manor. Every time the Floo network was used it was recorded, so Dumbledore would find out if she used that way. And she had no idea how to make a portkey. At precisely six forty five a grey fluffy owl flew threw Hermione's window and nearly set itself on fire as it veered far too close to a candle.   
  
Slightly amused at its antics Hermione caught the package as the owl gave dropped it and flew out of the window again. Inside the parcel were a platinum ring and a small note written in a different hand to her first letter delivered by the grey owl.   
  
Miss Granger,  
The ring is a portkey. Make sure you are wearing it at 7.00pm. It is charmed with a One-Size charm. If at any other time you wish to visit the Manor, say clearly while wearing the ring 'Malfoy Manor.'  
  
Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Hermione could almost sense the revulsion of sending a letter to a Mudblood in the letter. Hermione slipped the ring onto her left middle finger. The ring instantly shrunk to fit snugly around Hermione's slender finger.   
  
Realising she only had quarter of an hour to get ready Hermione leapt into action. Sprinting towards her wardrobe Hermione drew out a simple long blood red robe. Black embroidery followed the hems around the cuff and the neckline. The actual dress was a clear cut garment but accentuated the curvy figure of the seventh year and with its long slits on either sides her long muscled legs were shown to their advantage. After quickly changing into it, Hermione brought out a long black outer robe with a large hood and placed it carefully, so as not to crease it, onto the bed.  
  
Next was the bathroom. Hermione smirked as she thought of Lavender's comments. A pale foundation powder was brushed onto her face and her neck down to the neckline of the robe. Black kohl eyeliner was applied liberally. The points extended to give Hermione an almost Egyptian look. A thick coat of sparkly lip-gloss was smeared onto Hermione's already red lips.   
  
With a simple colour charm Hermione painted her nails the exact shade of red that her dress was and changed a pair of black sandals to red also. Not really bothering that it should look immaculate Hermione put half of her hair into a pony tail and left a few shorter hairs to frame her face. The sandals were slipped on and laced up, they were then charmed to feel as comfortable as any pair of trainers.   
  
The school clock was just striking seven as Hermione put on her outer robe, slipped her wand up her sleeve and disappeared.  
  
*********  
  
Review the chapter!! PLEASE!!!! Ack enough with the pleading. Next chapter: the DE meeting... dan dan daaan!   
  
Remember.... REVIEW!  
  
Ky, 


	3. Chapter the Third

A/N, well. The amount of reviews hasn't been encouraging but.... Who cares? Meh. Heres the third chapter! and a big ta to those of you who have reviewed (sorry I'm too lazy to find the names of ya!)  
  
Chapter two.  
  
As the tugging on her navel receeded and the blur of her surroundings faded, a large ballroom swam into focus. Tall windows ringed the room. Some opened onto a sprawling green lawn others were closed with deep green drapes partly covering them. Figures milled about the room, talking and chatting. No one appeared to take much notice of Hermione's arrival except one.   
  
With a feeling that was something akin to amazement, Hermione watched as the terror of the wizardng world made his way to her. It appeared that in the space of three years since Harry had described him to her Voldemort had changed a lot. No longer bald a thick mop of dark brown hair hung in eyes that could only be described as red. No trick of the light of lenses could make those reptilian eyes be anything but that searing red.   
  
"Miss Granger. I am most pleased you have come," Voldemort's murmured words slipped over her like silk, "Would you sit with me?" He impatiently flung his hand at one of the couches in dark niches of the room. Not daring to say a word, Hermione nodded and sat down, half covered in shadow.   
  
"Please take off your cloak. It will soon be stifling hot in here when the entertainment is brought out. Ah. Such beauty as yours should not be hidden with cloaks," He smiled but none of the warmth reached those eyes. Again Hermione said nothing but merely lowered her head , "Might I ask child-"  
  
"Please do not call me child." Hermione interjected. He inclined his head in acknowledgement.  
  
"I apologise. Might I ask why you came here Miss Granger?"   
  
"To be quite honest my reasons are none of your business."   
  
"I see. Well it has been a pleasure Miss Gra- Hermione." He smiled another of his cold smiles and glided to one of the larger groups of people.   
  
Looking around Hermione saw none of the barbarities she had expected. Everyone was in formal dress and acting very polite. No one was hanging half dead from a rusty spike from the ceiling. Shaking her head at the bizarreness of it all, Hermione almost missed the opening of a small door on the opposite side of the room. Around thirty people came through the door. All scantily clad. The adults in the room dropped the front of formality like one sheds a coat. A few of the men in the room picked from the group young girls and led them outside.  
  
The rest stared after their missing friends. The sluggish movements of them showed them to have been drugged with a body controllant. While the mind was perfectly aware of everything going on around them the body was incapable of doing anything apart from simple things like walking. These were apparently the entertainment Voldemort had spoken of.   
  
Hermione watched in disgust as the muggles were slowly led away one by one. Witches and wizards disappeared with their Muggles through open doors and the glass doors. Hermione felt sick. How long she sat there she did not know but the shift of the chushions showed the arrival of another. Hermione turned her head to face Lucius Malfoy, leering at her.   
  
"Well, I am surprised. I thought you'd be far too scared to appear," He ran his blue eyes over her, "Though I can't say I'm not pleased." He edged closer but was struck immobile by the sound of his master's voice.  
  
"Lucius, go away. You are annoying both Miss Granger and myself with your unwanted attentions. Go and attend to your wife, I believe she is currently throwing up somewhere." Like a louse whose rock has been lifted, Lucius scuttled out of the room leaving it empty apart from Voldemort and Hermione.  
  
"Thank you." Hermione hoped that, satisfied with her thanks, he would shortly leave her.   
  
"There is no need for your thanks, Miss Granger. I can't very well allow Lucius to molest the most prmoising of my future Death Eaters now could I?" For one so cruel and cold Voldemort smiled so readily.   
  
"No. Not that he would get very far. The thought of my bloodline would have repelled him soon enough."  
  
"Yes. Muggle blood, to all intents, is running through your vein. Rather a shame that one so promising should be a Mudblood." The blood that was under discussion roared in her ears.  
  
"I am more of a witch than some of your purebloods! Even Draco, who must be one of the purest wizards alive, is incapable of doing magic of a standard which I mastered during my early years at Hogwarts. He is the disgrace to the wizarding world, not I." Hermione discreetly slipped her wand out of her sleeve. Voldemort, it seemed, noticed.  
  
"Oh how I wish you hadn't said and done that. Expelliarmus." Her wand flew to his outstretched hand, "Such a pity that you should have such a temper! It almost makes me wish I didn't have to kill you. Avada Kedavra."  
  
He stared as the killing curse had no effect on the young witch. He attempted once again, and failed once again.  
  
"Impossible!"  
  
"Possible. I created a potion in the end of the summer of my sixth year, which enables the drinker to be immune to Dark Curses. Don't think about stealing it though. One simple charm from me and all who have drunk it, apart from me, will die instantaneously. Surely you didn't think I'd come here unprotected?" Slowly the ends of her lips turned upwards, as she slid down from the couch onto her knees before Voldemort, "Just think. That potion could be yours. Information on Hogwarts, on Harry, on anything you want to know." Hermione finished, pleadingly.  
  
"I was right. More than right in fact. You are perfect in every way. The perfect little Death Eater." He smiled, showing off everyone of his finely pointed teeth, "Where would you like my mark?" Hermione's thoughts whirled. She got to choose? But....  
  
"My right shoulder blade."  
  
"To keep your wings in?" He laughed at his joke. After his chuckles died down he forced Hermione's head down and placed his wand on her shoulder blade. He muttered a string of unintelligable words. For a very brief moment there was a period of intense stinging pain. Then there was nothing.   
  
"Your friends and teachers will be wondering where you are. That ring you wear will return you. Just think of Hogwarts and you shall be there. Lucius shall Owl you with the information for out next meeting. Until then, Miss Granger." He lifted her hand and pressed his cold lips against her rapidly cooling skin and placed her wand back into the folds of her sleeve.  
  
With thoughts of evil marks keeping in her wings, and of perfect evil, Hermione appeared back in her room.  
  
*********  
  
Aha! I have completed it! I started this about two weeks ago and I've finished it. Yay! Go me! If you're reading this and think it's good, don't just think 'hmm, that was good'. Review it! And if you're even nicer than me recommend this to friends etc. Hell I don't care if the only reason you review is to send me death threats if I attempt to write again, or if you only tell friends to read this because of how crap it is. Just please review! God I sound desperate! *wah*  
  
toodles  
  
Ky,   
  
(Happy steph?) 


	4. Chapter the Fourth

Buahaha, I have returned well yes. Heh, i've finally decided to update this, I had intended it to be finished after chapter 3, but I just couldn't resist. Disclaimer- Ye all know the drill, all characters etc. belong to JK. I'm just exercising them a little. 

Chapter the Fourth 

The usual breakfast chatter of those who were fully released from sleep flowed over Hermione as water flows over a stone, leaving it unchanged. She idly pushed her bacon rinds from one side of her plate to the other. Her thoughts were not on the day ahead of her, as those who worried about exams were, but on the events of the previous night. Despite the horror of watching senseless muggles being led away to their death she couldn't help but look on the night with a feeling akin to fondness. It was as though in that night she had found her little niche. As though she had found a place where she could truly belong. To think, Hermione mused, that six years ago I thought I knew the ins and outs of right and wrong. I guess what Voldemort said was right. There are no evil people and good people who work to right the evil, there are only people with power and those who long for it but are too weak. 

The warning bell that signalled just five minutes till the first lesson sounded through the castle. Hermione placed her fork onto her plate and reached down to her feet to pick up her bag. She stood up and followed the crowd of seventh years that were heading to Defence Against The Dark Arts. As she passed through the great doors she felt a firm hand rest upon her arm. Looking up Hermione saw the bearded face of Dumbledore smiling gently at her. 

"A word if you please Miss Granger." Silently, Hermione followed the Headmaster to his office and sat herself on one of the many chairs that faced his desk. The two sat in quiet for a few moments. The echo of the second bell reached Hermione's ears. 

"Now then. I apologise for this but I'm sure your professor won't mind me having a word with you even if it does make you late. I may sometimes be perceived as a nosy old man who would be best off in St Mungo's but I do care for my students. And any irregularities cause me concern, no matter how small they may seem to be. Now then last night Messrs Weasley and Potter wished to speak to you after visiting your rooms, you must change your password regularly by the way, they ascertained you were not there. They tell me that they looked everywhere for you, undoubtedly they were helped by certain magics they know, but could not find you." 

"I was in the library sir. I was studying for an exam. A potions exam. Rather important." Hermione interrupted. 

"How strange. I personally searched the library. Missing students is a matter that troubles me. In times like these I like to know exactly where my pupils are. You don't know what kind of evil may be lurking." 

"I was in a corner. I guess you just missed me." Hermione forced her muscles to shift themselves into a smile. 

"Indeed. Well, I feel better now. I know exactly where you were. I feel relieved knowing that you weren't off gallivanting in Hogsmeade. You may leave." Dumbledore smiled also. To Hermione his smile seemed almost as forced as hers. She could fancy that there was a tinge of sadness that shadowed his smile. 

Hermione stood up and slung her bag onto her shoulder and made to leave the circular office. 

"By the way, Miss Granger. I hope that when your final exam comes your choice of revision topic was the correct one. It would be very disappointing if it came to be that you are tested on unrevised areas." Without answering Hermione descended the swirling staircase and stood in the cold corridor with the golden phoenix behind her. 

Hermione began to walk to her next class but stopped. The floor seemed to lurch beneath her, her hands reached out to the steady walls. In the middle of a cold corridor, Hermione stood with her bag to the chilly stones of the walls and the realisation hit her. He knew. Dumbledore knew. Somehow he knew that she had effectively change sides. This knowledge pushed her to the floor. She sank down to the floor. 

He had to know. All those comments about her exam. He must have know perfectly well that she didn't have a potions exam. Be it an important one or not. As muggles liked to say. She was screwed. 

"Mr Longbottom. Surely by now, your seventeenth year on this floating rock, you have acquired the ability to distinguish between a number one and a number seven," At Neville's tiny nod, Snape continued his silky tirade, "Then why have you added seven pixie wings when it distinctly says on the board to add a single pixie wing? Because of your mistake you have received no marks for this... I hesitate to say potion. Miss Granger, please plant your rear end back onto your seat and stop being such a know it all." Snape distastefully eyed Hermione as he returned to his desk. 

Seething, Hermione stirred her perfect potion. She had merely lifted herself out of her seat to reach the phial of green clabbert blood and she had yet again been ridiculed by the one and only, master of cynicism Professor Snape. How she loathed him. Everything to his lying, traitorous teeth annoyed her. However she merely sighed and added a few drops of the blood to her brilliant fuchsia potion. Draco, who had on this one day decided to sit next to her, suddenly knocked her elbow. Rather than a few droplets of the clabbert blood, almost the entire phial went into the potion, causing it to turn a sickly green rather than a quiet purple. Together with the dramatic colour change went a small ball of brown smoke and a rather large pop. 

"Longbottom, what have you done now?" Snape stood up and walked over the Neville's cauldron. A frown ceased his sallow face, he then noticed the source of the smoke and a sneer crossed his lips, "Miss Granger? How much Clabbert blood did you add? I believe I have always taught that the correct amount of clabbert blood to be added to a broken brew is just four drops. Five at the most. Have I not? Then why, pray tell, have you added an entire phial of said liquid?" It seemed to Hermione that Snape's dark orbs burned holes into the top of her head. 

"I slipped Professor." Hermione looked up and met Snape's eyes. She stared right back at him. The class, sensing the tension, shifted and began to mutter. 

"Class, silence! Miss Granger, for your incompetence you have a detention. Seven o' clock, the first Saturday after the holidays. Do not be late or forget." 

Her blood boiling and raging past her ears, Hermione sat quietly at her desk until the end of the lesson. Merlin how she hated the snide potions master. 

My Dear Miss Granger, 

I pine for you already. Be at Malfoy Manor at 8 o' clock this Thursday evening. I believe it is currently the Easter holidays so your absence should not be noted. 

T. Riddle. 

Hermione smiled, Voldemort, the fear of the Wizarding world pining for her? She shook her head at his whimsical attitude. Who knew the Dark Lord had a sense of humour. She quickly fed the owl some owl treats and pushed it back out of her window. She took of the ring she had received with her second letter and fingered it almost reverently. She detected a very slight bump on the outside and a little dent on the inside. With her slim fingers she discovered it's secret. A spell very similar to the one cast to make a Portkey had been cast upon the ring. Also, a locator spell resided in the little bump. Hermione smiled and quickly disabled the locator spell. 

She sighed. Thursday was so far away, it was only Tuesday and the days were long with boredom. Already a week of holiday had passed her by. All of the students apart from the Muggle born had returned home and Hermione was bored out of her mind. With no lessons to distract her, no homework to complete she felt as though her brain had stopped functioning. This little excursion could possible offer some diversion. 

The rest of Tuesday passed slowly. Time seemed to splutter and stop altogether like her parents old Vauxhall. However Thursday passed with a speed that seemed almost alarming compared to the other days. Thursday, too passed without much notice, Hermione awoke, ate a light breakfast, visited the library, missed lunch, read and studied some more and then dined at dinner with the rest of the students. 

Some time before eight o' clock Hermione showered and dressed quickly, she cast aside the care and meticulousness of her previous meeting with Voldemort. She dressed simply, a pair of black jeans, a plain white shirt with a few constellations Hermione had sewn on herself one boring afternoon and a pair of flat black shoes. She threw a deep blue cape over her shoulders and activated the spell on the ring just a few minutes before eight. 

The blur that had accompanied her first use of the ring was not present. This time, rather than standing in the large ballroom, Hermione found herself on the main stairway of Malfoy Manor. It was rather impressive. Several doors led out, through a large pair of glass doors Hermione could see the familiar sight of the ballroom. 

"My Lady." The sound of Draco's sarcastic drawl drew Hermione's gaze to where the blond was standing, leaning against the stair rail at the stop. 

"Malfoy." Hermione acknowledge. 

"I wish you wouldn't stand there. One of the maids just scrubbed it clean and you're dirtying it all up. Move. And next time, Mudblood, use the trader's entrance. This entrance is reserved for the special guests. And you are not a special guest. Just because you've been marked doesn't mean you've proved yourself. You'll need to do something pretty impressive to prove to me that you're not a waste of time." 

"Malfoy. I hope you're not being rude. Just because this young lady was accepted where you were rejected does not give you the right to be rude. I hope he wasn't annoying you my dear." Voldemort stepped through an open doorway set into a recess to the left of Hermione. 

"Of course I wasn't being rude, My Lord. I was congratulating Granger. I'm sure she will bring much good to our cause." Draco whined. 

"Funny, I heard a lot of rudeness. And a whole lot more crap." Hermione sneered at Draco, who glared at her. 

"Malfoy, you repulsive little scab. Leave my sight before I decide to turn you into a ferret. Unlike Crouch, I will not allow you to return to your true form," Draco turned to leave but was stopped by the Dark Lord's next words, "Draco, a moment if you please, Crucio." Draco's face contorted. He fell to the floor and rolled down a few steps before he stopped with a groan. Voldemort sniffed at the sight before him and turned, taking Hermione by the arm and strode towards a large door of pale green frosted glass. 

"Please sit down." The room was richly decorated, greens of all hues met Hermione's eyes as she stepped through the door. A small crystal chandelier in the shape of intertwined serpents hung from the ceiling sporting silver candles that somehow managed to illuminate the reasonably large room. Hermione chose a plush sofa to sit down on and did so. Voldemort sank down onto the space besides her. 

"My dear, you look as luminous as you did the first time I saw you. How has life been treating you my lady?" Voldemort asked courteously. 

"Reasonably well. Please excuse me, but I'm wondering why you asked me to be here. I doubt you wanted to exchange pleasantries." A slight blush tinged Hermione's cheeks. 

"You are a breath of fresh air from the Malfoy's. I loathe their fawning and petting, especially when Lucius is plotting behind my back." Hermione shook her head slightly. This pleasant and courteous reception was not the one she had expected. However her new master's next words shook her out of the lull, "However you are right. I did not ask you to be here to ask about your health. I would like you to kill Professor Severus Snape. He has been a thorn in my side for too long. I should have guessed he was working for that fool long before his duplicity was detected after he killed Pettigrew." 

"I see. Well this is rather sudden." Hermione blinked. Yes, she hated the greasy haired man but did she hate him enough to kill him? 

"If this is too much for you I could ask someone else, say Draco?" Voldemort looked away from her face but slipped sly looks at her to gauge her reaction to his seemingly innocent remark. Her hair fairly bristled with anger at the implied slur on her abilities. 

"Of course not. I will do as you bid. Draco's help will not be necessary." She replied cooly. 

"Good. I believe Lucius is holding another meeting in three weeks. He can only get adequate amounts of entertainment every month or so. I shall understand if you do not attend but it would be pleasant if you attended to tell me how the traitor died." Voldemort said, giving Hermione a vague idea of when he wanted his wishes to be fulfilled by. 

"Of course. I shall see you in three weeks then." Hermione thought hard about Hogwarts and her rooms and disappeared. 

Hermione's feet jolted on the wooden floor of her living room turned study. Hermione sighed. For once she was glad for a detention with Snape. Most people were smart enough to stay out of detention with him so she ought to be on her own with the potions master. Again she sighed. How to kill a toughened, paranoid former death eater. 

The holiday weekend passed in a blur for Hermione. Outwardly she acted no differently to Snape in chance meetings in the corridor or at meals, but inwardly she was watching him very closely, hoping that in his last few weeks of life the man would show her some kind of weakness that would make the slightly ease the job for her. The weakness that she looked for would not be the key to killing him, it would only be an added bonus to make things easier, there was no question about her success. In Hermione's eyes her professor was as good as dead. Nothing could come between her and her goal. Nothing could stop her from proving herself. 

School term started once again, and again a few less students returned. Classes flew past Hermione, she knew the material already, it didn't matter if she didn't listen to her lessons, she had learnt the seventh year curriculum during her fifth year summer holiday. Hermione kept up the pretence of a studious pupil and handed in homework when it was needed. By Thursday, Hermione was still none the wiser as to how she was going to kill her professor. She had several methods out ruled though. Poison was definitely out of the question, she had no reason to give him any food or drink that might contain poison and even if she got poisoned food near enough to him for it to be ingested that oversized nose of his would smell it right away. Killing him with her bare hands would be a doomed attempt also, not only was he taller than she by almost a foot, he also had his death eater experience. He had no doubt killed many and knew how to defend himself from such and attempt. A fatal accident of some sort may not work. It could not work and such a risk was not one Hermione was willing to take. That left her with very limited options, either kill him by magic when he was caught of guard or find Draco and ask him. 

By Thursday evening Hermione had a better idea of what she was going to do. Snape's reminder of her detention the next day and the way Voldemort treated her had planted a vague idea of a plan in her mind. 

A/N Well? Think I shouldn't have updated? Review please! 


End file.
